Rouge
by OracleMine
Summary: Grell x Male!Reader On the eve of Lord Phantomhive's 13th birthday, Grell cooks up a scheme to win Sebastian's black heart, and he plans on dragging you down with him.
1. Your Reaper, Devious

You took a long drag from your cigarette, puffing your own private storm clouds into the sky. The rich smell of nicotine was bitter and burnt. You were quite the sight to see for a Shinigami, the supposed Gods of the underworld. Your tie was limp on your chest, the knot a loose joke. Viscera stained the cuffs of your once pristine white shirt. Overall, you looked like total shit.

It had been a pretty hard night. Children, children were always the worst to deal with. Something so morbid in seeing a tiny body in such an adult stage in life. Or death, rather. A grisly carriage crash on their way home from their Grandmother's estate. They were all sleeping in the back seat when it happened, didn't feel a thing. All were sorted and categorized, and luckily enough, all were sent to the gates of Heaven. The greasy part of the matter was watching the Cinematic Records.

For most people, you saw their wedding, child birth, loss of virginity, so on and so forth. Kids were a simpler folk, only brief, sketchy flashes of birthdays or their favorite pet. Achingly short. You were still raw to your work, being a younger Reaper, it would take time for your sense of morals to scab over. Your death scythe was a bloody mess at your side. Needed to be cleaned before it dried, you would get to it later.

Your legs dangled off the lip of the building roof, the stiff breeze fluttering your black shoe laces. You liked taking to the roof tops, just watching London take its courses. You could see every one of them but they couldn't see you. It was perfectly calm and peaceful.

"Why hellooo Gorgeous~" A voice drawled to your left, startling the wits out of you.

You gave a sideways glance at the figure propped against the chimney. You didn't even have to see the death scythe to know he was a reaper. Mr. Sutcliffe was a rather infamous member of the organization, and extraordinarily hard to forget. Whether it was his flamboyant uniform, flirtatious personality, or slight mental instability, Grell made an imprint.

You snuffed the cigarette out on a shingle, lifting an eyebrow.

"Any particular reason why you're here?"

"Don't be like that, darling. I just wanted to greet the newest head Reaper, give a warm welcome, congratulate you on your promotion." He grinned deviously, exposing a bridge of saber teeth.

You had to keep up a facade of disinterest to disguise your sensitive spot. If one were to ask your co-workers William or Ronald about any weak links in your condition, the first word to pass their lips would be "Sutcliffe." Any day of the week a person could find you lounging in your cubicle, gazing across the room instead of writing your reports. Grell's desk was a stones throw from yours, his back facing you. A spot of fabulous red in the dreary office's of the Shinigami.

He was absolutely beautiful. Pointed features, milky white skin, and a voice to kill for. You, on the other hand, were a dot under the radar. In the entirety of your first few years at headquarters (as a trainee Shinigami), Grell hadn't once said hello to you. You had attempted to ask him out a few hundred years ago, presenting the ginger with a bundle of red roses, only to receive the reply of "Who are you again?"

"Thank you, then." You nodded, hopping up.

Of course, you were wary. When you lived in the shadows, you had to be. Anything suspicious was reanalyzed and harshly dealt with, and a crush taking a 180 in interest, why, is there anything more suspicious?

"Where are you going?"

"Home, need to wash up, shower or something.

"Hm, may I join?" He giggled, trailing after you across the curvature of the roof.

You blushed a fierce scarlet, ducking your face before the moonlight could expose your embarrassment, A vivid image came to mind of Grell in your bath, and it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

"I'll take this one solo, sir." You gave a lazy salute, hopping off the roof and onto the awning of a flower shop.

Grell was quick to follow, skipping along your footsteps as you crossed from building to building.

"Can I help you with something?" You turned to face him on an overhang attached to the library.

"Maybe you can..." He sang, taking a seat on the humped back of a stone gargoyle. "What do you know of the Phantomhive family?"

"Eh, not much. British upper crust, right hand men to the Queen, still around I believe. Little boy named Ciel, alive last time I checked. I reaped the souls of both sets of his grandparents. Seemed to be a lively young lad from their memories. He'd be about, twelve, thirteen."

"Ciel is very much alive, and a thorn in Williams side. At least his butler is. A demon, an incredibly sexy demon. And I want your help winning his heart."

"Lord Phantomhive?"

"No, you oaf! The demon."

You felt disdain curl in your stomach like a rotted snake. One, the man you had practically lived for found someone else. Two, said lucky man was a filthy demon. And three, this redheaded bastard was asking you for dating advice.

"How do you expect me to do that?" You spoke through your teeth, a sweaty grip on the staff of your scythe.

"There is going to be an absolutely darling little ball for Ciel's thirteenth birthday. Half of Europe is invited. We can just slip in amongst the nobles. The way I figure, if my sweetheart is to see me on the arm of the poster boy of tall, dark, and handsome, he'll be dying to have me in his arms again!"'

Grell had the amazing ability to make you feel both insulted and charmed.

"You want me to be your fake date to make your boyfriend jealous?"

"Exactly!" He squealed, hopping up and down.

You pushed up your thin rimmed glasses, weighing your options. Grell was going to lust over this 'Sebastian' no matter what your response was. And if it was a no, he'd snag someone else to play the Mr. Right for the ball.

On the pro side, This could be an opportunity, your only opportunity, to go on a date with your dream man. On the con side, you could somehow sway the demon into interest on Grell.

"What do you say?" Grell asked, grinning brightly.

"Sure. What's the worst that could happen?"


	2. Your Reaper, Fickle

"What are you doing here?" A deep voice spoke into your ear.

You took a breath, turning smoothly. You could have smelled him from a mile away. He reeked of misery and brimstone.

"I assume you are Sebastian."

"You assume correctly. May I ask who you are, and why a Shinigami is here for the Master's party?" Sebastian lifted an ebony eyebrow, hands clasped firmly behind his back.

He would not fight you unless absolutely necessary. This was Ciel's big day, the first step into the woes of teenage-hood. It would be dreadful to make a mess of Godly blood on the front lawn, no matter how much he wanted to paint the patio with your insides.

"(Name), sir." You extended your hand for a shake, only to be met with a blank stare.

You lowered your palm slowly, only growing to dislike your competition more and more.

"I'm here with my," You paused, struggling with the term. "Date. He said he would be a bit late and to wait by the entryway."

Sebastian looked puzzled.

"I have no record of any our guests being affiliated with your kind."

"I know this is a bit rude, but I am beginning to doubt that he was even invited."

"(Name), love." A new voice called from a paneled carriage, freshly arrived from the rugged dirt road.

A pair of red boots appeared out of the door, stepping down to the ground. You felt your heart flutter in your chest, a thin bead of sweat on your forehead. Grell took the term "gussying up" to a whole new level. He looked dashing in a scarlet suit, the tails of the jacket long and feminine. A silky white cravat was ruffled at his neck, pierced by a ruby broach. His mass of red hair was tied back with a strip of crimson velvet, red locks framing a face of fresh make-up. You had felt over dressed in your special occasion clothes, but now felt overshadowed. Now it would be even harder to watch him flirt away with the butler.

In a sudden lunge, Grell was at your side, cuddling your arm. Your heart picked up, feeling a sliver of hope. Said hope was crushed under a cardinal stiletto heel as you caught on to Grell's "Plan".

"Sebastian, I didn't even see you there..." He wore a mask of disinterest, fluttering his long eyelashes.

Sebastian looked faintly surprised. He was not aware the Shininami had a love interest, or even the ability to get one. Whomever this (Name) may be, he was blessed with patience.

You inwardly groaned, disgusted. He was laying it on a bit thick, but you had to do this, it was part of the job. You equally played the part of loving boyfriend, giving a look of affection to your partner, letting him lean his head on your shoulder.

"Grell, in honor of Lord Phantomhive's celebration, I propose to you a deal." The demon stated, glancing back to the lively household.

There were so many matters to attend to at the party. Mei Rin was supposedly giving out glasses of champenge, and had kept her balance thus far. They were running short on the drink, unfortunately, and he would have to find an old crate in the wine cellar. Hopefully he could step in before she was tried to do it herself. [1]

Bard was hard at work in the kitchen, preparing a seven tiered cake. Chocolate, Strawberry, Vanilla, Red Velvet, Lemon, Carrot, and Coconut, a different flavor on each level. This had been Lady Elizabeth's idea. Sebastian had to check in soon, just to make sure he wasn't combining any flavors. [2]

Finnian was keeping watch in the study, which had been transformed into a Present Room. He was in charge of keeping the boxes in bags organized by size, container, and whom they were from. The butler was getting an aching suspicion Finny was botching the simple task. [3]

"I don't have any spare time to walk you off the main grounds, or to make sure

I hinder your ability to walk." Sebastian had an edge in his tone, but maintained an aura of pleasant small talk. "As long as you behave yourself, you can go inside. If I receive even one complaint from our prestigious guests of any disruptions, I will personally skin you alive."

You stifled a growl, growing protective over your fake date. He had the opposite reaction. Grell swooned into your arms, only quick reflexes saving the reaper from a meeting with the ground.

"Oh Bassy..." He moaned, pressing a gloved hand to his forehead. "I'm a taken man now. Don't say such sensual things to me, I can barely stand it."

In the throngs of the crowd, you nearly lost sight of Grell several times. He was cooing over the ritzy decorations, drowning women in compliments over wine colored ball gowns, or swaying off beat to the music.

It was even worse when you were with him. At every opportunity, Grell shoved you in Sebastian's face. The heart attack you received every time he kissed you had faded several hours ago, the act of love becoming monotonous. You had danced to every slow song, making sure to pass Sebastian at every turn. Grell made sure to speak with extra volume of your looks or brains while waltzing down the hallways with other debutantes, just hoping Sebby would hear.

He had behaved himself rather well, over all. No death threats or off the books reaping. You were far from happy with him. He was tearing your heart out by the roots and mangling it. Ironically, you were getting better with your infatuation, even becoming interested with other people. Now the taste of Grell was on your lips and you were ravenous again.

The two of you were finally alone in the gardens, for Grell wanted to see the bushes of blood red roses. Even without a seductive demon to see, Grell hadn't let go of your hand. It could be written off as habit, but you still clung to some whim that he felt something for you.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Grell sighed.

"Yeah..." You gazed at him, his acidic eyes lit by the moonlight

"You are looking the wrong way." He noticed, gesturing to the flowers at your left.

"O-oh." You quickly swiveled to look at the blooms.

Grell snickered softly, loving opportunities to tease you. He knew very well that you had a crush on him, he could feel your eyes burning a hole in the back of his head every work day. That is why he chose you for his mission. (Name) was so easily manipulated, his little heart like putty in his hands. Did he feel bad? No! Of course not. Well, maybe.

It had been fun at first, stringing you along. The longer the Plan took place, however, the more it hurt to look at you. You just looked so defeated, like this was your only purpose in life. Grell was bound and determined to get into the heart (and bed) of Sebastian Michaelis. Was it worth making you love sick?

"Why did you do this for me, dear? What are you getting out of it?" He queried, running a cold finger down the line of your jaw.

You shuddered, replying with a simple, "For you."

"For me?"

"Yes. It makes you happy, and that makes me happy."

Grell pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, smiling softly.

"Sebastian isn't out here." You pointed out, rather unfazed.

"I know he isn't." The redhead purred, grabbing you by the lapels of your jacket.

The next kiss was far from chaste, the sharp prick of his teeth cutting your lips. A droplet of blood rested on your mouth, swiftly licked away with the length of his tongue.

"Grell, what are you..." You could barely speak through your cloudy mind, and had to stop when you saw the look in his eyes, the same look he gave his Bassy.

One of lust, love, and insane obsession. Is there anything better?

Authors Notes:

[1]- She was.

[2]- He was.

[3]- He was.


End file.
